Futile wishes for perfection
Make me less, make me more
I’m sorry this pain cannot be ignored
Your grace is sufficient, make this less
I feel a wickedness tugging at me inside, a blinding breaking painful light
Will the shadows crawl away and die
Or will they break open and birth more night?
How can I win when I’m fighting sin?
You already did.
I am good for nothing else
Riddled with agony, an aching mess
Of cuts and gaping wounds, trauma and
Just threaded together, barely, by the strings of your grace.
Nobody can know me as You do, so I burn to know you
When the tidal wave of nothingness climbs its way into my lungs
There is nobody to give me breath except for you, King
You are the only reason I still sing
I feel watery today, unsure of myself, unable to
Bring the peace I crave so deep in my soul
Who will help me? Who will hold me?
Not this earth, not these
As lost as me
Is the only stillness
In this whirling chaos.
Let your grace soothe me
Let its awesome, terrible power tear down my misconceptions
Knock down every walled-up presupposition
I do not want to live in a bubble of pain
For fear of it popping and the oxygen outside knowing my name
Take me somewhere my heart cries out for you
Fill me with your power, oh God, and your truth.
Lead me to a place of
Utter dependency on you;
I do not want to be this scared little girl,
Locked up, troubled by every
Memory, every ludicrous possibility.
I sneer at those forces, the unknowns swirling around
They do not own me, their reality is unfounded
I am the King’s daughter and His grace surrounds
And that’s the
End of that story.
Felt warmth at my back, and fell asleep
Thinking, in a moment of late, exhaustion-induced confusion, that it was you.
But sunlight, and morning
Broke the truth
It was only the cat, curled up at my back.
And you are still dead;
You are still dead.
I feel like if I push you hard enough
And I’ll be
Back where I belong